


the body is a blade

by scissorghost



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: (oh my god they were teammates), Alternate Universe - Hockey, And They Were Teammates, Angst, Friends With Benefits, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mentioned SEVENTEEN Ensemble, Underage Drinking, Yearning, wonwoo drafted first overall for fondgazing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:00:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28175061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scissorghost/pseuds/scissorghost
Summary: Soonyoung is on his team now.Soonyoung, who has been slogging his way through farm teams for the past five years, racking up goal after goal, hat trick after hat trick, has finally made it to the big leagues. Wonwoo has always known Soonyoung would make it. It was just a matter of time. But he hadn't dared hope that Soonyoung would make it onhisteam.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi
Comments: 9
Kudos: 57
Collections: Match Point: The SEVENTEEN Sports Fic Fest





	the body is a blade

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt:**  
>  Can be any team sport!! Wonwoo and Soonyoung are teammates and Soonyoung is the over-enthusiastic player who's always sweaty and yelling and Wonwoo is the the quiet, intense player who takes the game Very Seriously.
> 
> Oh, and Wonwoo has the worst, most painful, embarrassing crush on Soonyoung. Lots of confused, irritated pining.
> 
> ^thank you to this prompter, who i hope will be okay w a story that is uhhh a little bit more than they asked for

They win in regulation, and that alone feels like reason to celebrate. The past few days have been brutal, with back-to-back away games that both went to overtime, and then shootouts, and it's better than losing outright but having the game be decided on six shots alone, well. Wonwoo has never liked it, even when they come out on top.

"Come take shots with us!" Seokmin yells over the noise of the bar. Wonwoo is sitting pressed against the wall of the corner booth that Seungkwan had finagled for them somehow, even though it's Saturday night and crowded as shit.

"SHOTS!" Jun parrots from his spot next to Wonwoo. He's not even looking up from his phone but he's letting himself be dragged over to the bar by Seokmin's clumsy hands, which means Wonwoo is left alone with no one to casually hide behind when Seokmin and Seungkwan come back around to harass people (Wonwoo) onto the dance floor. The proverbial sitting duck.

He sighs, pulls out his phone. He doesn't like bars. They're too hot and too sticky and too full of people trying too hard to be something they're not. Wonwoo has spent enough time doing the same that he can recognize it, the sheen of desperation to be funny enough, cool enough, hot enough that someone will want you at the end of the night.

**Wonwoo  
**Seungkwan is trying to poison me

He doesn't expect a response but he gets one before he can even put his phone back down on the sticky table.

**Soonyoung**

Again??

**Wonwoo  
**Again

**Soonyoung  
**Kekekekekeke  
What happened this time?

**Wonwoo  
**We barely pulled out a win and they're acting like we won the championship trophy

**Soonyoung  
**Sounds like they've got the right idea  
Winning is always worth celebrating!!!!!  
🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

**Wonwoo  
**They're just so embarrassing

**Soonyoung  
**😲

**Wonwoo  
**You are too

**Soonyoung  
**😡

He doesn't mean it, not really. Well, they are embarrassing, but he knows he's just as excited as they are. He just hides it better. He grins to himself, grabs the drink Jun ordered earlier and takes a hearty sip. Nearly spits it out when he realizes it's tequila, but manages to gag it down instead of spewing it all over the table. Disgusting. His friends are menaces.

When Wonwoo feels slightly less like he's about to hurl, he sees Soonyoung has sent him a wall of emojis. It shouldn't be as funny as it is, but Soonyoung always makes him laugh.

**Soonyoung  
**🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺  
🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺  
🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺  
🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺  
🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺  
🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

**Wonwoo  
**Mercy

**Soonyoung  
**That's not even my name :((  
Sorry I don't have big anime titties like her :(((((

**Wonwoo  
**I've told you a million times overwatch is not anime

**Soonyoung  
**:(((((((((((((((

**Wonwoo  
**I'm blocking your number again

**Soonyoung  
**🤐

Wonwoo rolls his eyes and starts counting in his head. It takes less than two minutes for Soonyoung to text again.

**Soonyoung  
**Okay so I know I said I was 🤐  
But  
This is important

**Wonwoo  
**Kekekekekeke  
Go ahead

**Soonyoung  
**I think  
KNOCK ON WOOD  
But I think  
They might be sending me up soon  
Or I'm getting traded again kekekeke

Wonwoo's breath catches in his throat. Suddenly shots don't seem like such a bad idea.

**Soonyoung  
**I don't know for sure obviously, but  
Hope you're ready for me to kick your ass on the ice

Wonwoo wishes he was back at his apartment so he could video call Soonyoung. He doesn't know what he'd say but he wants desperately to see him.

"Hyung?"

Wonwoo startles, knocking his head painfully into the wall at his back.

"Ow, fuck."

Chan is standing at the mouth of the booth looking both sheepish and unrepentant in equal measure. Wonwoo narrows his eyes. He's been spending too much time with Mingyu lately.

"Sorry," Chan says, but still slides into the booth across from him. He passes Wonwoo one of the shot glasses he's holding and then wiggles the bottle of peach soju in his other hand temptingly. "I know you don't like crowds but Hansol said if we don't all take shots as a team it's bad luck."

"That's not a thing."

"It is to Hansol."

Despite his easygoing, chill, _hey man I'm just vibing_ attitude, Hansol is hilariously superstitious about some things. He replaces his tape after every single period, he eats the same thing for breakfast before every game (a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, of all things), he meticulously puts together pre-game playlists to get the team hyped up, and a million other little rituals that are just as important to him as the skates on his feet. Wonwoo has yet to hear about this one.

He sighs but motions for Chan to pour anyway. He can't believe he's letting himself be manipulated into drinking by the youngest members of their team, and he isn't even mad about it. It's nice, that they care about him. He knows he doesn't always make it easy.

His phone buzzes on the table again and he thumbs it open while Chan pours his own.

**Soonyoung  
**Wow  
So scared you don't know what to say  
Maybe if you're good I'll go easy on you  
😈

Wonwoo downs the shot and pushes it back for another.

Chan raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything as he pours. His hands are steady and sure. He's only 22 but Wonwoo thinks that one day he'll be the best goalie in the league. In the meantime, he has to settle for being the best back-up.

"To the Seoul Tigers," Chan says. He holds up his shot glass to clink them together. Wonwoo's hands are trembling so badly some of the soju slops over the edge, but Chan doesn't blink an eye.

"The Tigers," Wonwoo agrees, and decides that he'll text Soonyoung back after they get through this bottle.

The thing about Kwon Soonyoung is that they're friends. Wonwoo tries not to think about it too much but other than Jun, Soonyoung is the closest thing Wonwoo has to a best friend. Jun wandered his way into it by virtue of random hotel room assignments, and then stuck around because Wonwoo is apparently the only other person on the team who doesn't have some weird sleeping habit that makes rooming with them a nightmare.

Being Jun's friend is easy because Jun is easy. He tells Wonwoo what he thinks, straightforward to the point of rudeness sometimes, but never anything other than honest, steady. Deeply weird but always kind.

Soonyoung is...well.

Soonyoung is complicated.

* * *

When Wonwoo is eighteen he goes fourth overall in the 2014 Asia League Ice Hockey draft to the Seoul Tigers.

It doesn't bother him that he isn't first, though everyone seems to think it should. He's happy he was drafted at all.

The day itself is a blur that Wonwoo barely remembers. It's all too big, the knowledge that he's been working towards this his whole life, that the thousands of hours he's sunk into something that most people consider just a game has finally paid off.

His parents cry when his name is called and he takes the time to hug them, smile at them as brightly as he can before he walks, alone, to the little stage set up at the front of the room where the coach and captain of the Tigers are waiting for him. He bows low, sweaty and nervous but still practically floating on air as they greet him and hand him a jersey. It's too big, meant to fit over layers of padding, but it's his, his name and his number stamped proudly on the back for everyone to see.

They usher him off the stage as the next team comes on, herding him into a room cramped with lighting equipment, the floor covered in slithering black cables. He almost trips over a few, not used to the nice dress-up shoes his mom commanded him to put on this morning, but he manages to right himself. Outside the room he can hear more names being called. They must still be on first picks.

Wonwoo recognizes some of them - Yeo Changgu, Kim Byeongkwan, Qian Kun - but he's never played with any of them. Against them, sure, plenty of times throughout juniors and the travel teams he's been on since high school. They were all good, all on the cusp of being great, and now he supposes he's considered one of them.

These, he thinks, are people who get it. People who understand the pressure, the heavy weight of expectation placed on his shoulders that if he was going to commit his life to some game instead of something useful, something worthwhile, that he would at least make something of himself.

Well, he did it. Elation fills him up like helium until he's sure he's about to burst from it, giddy and excited and overwhelmed, lighter than he can ever remember being.

The blinding flash of the photographer's camera makes him squeeze his eyes shut, suddenly dizzy, black spots dancing in his periphery. The ill-fitting shoes are pinching his toes and he's half convinced that his fly has been down the whole time, but that doesn't even matter because he's fucking made it.

The announcers are still calling out names when he's finally done with pictures and a group interview with some of the other first picks. Wonwoo barely said a word the whole time, too nervous about saying the wrong thing, or coming across the wrong way. He's always been bad at first impressions.

He weaves his way through the tables set up on the floor of the auditorium and finally spots his parents, a few rows away from where they were sitting originally. As he's scanning the audience for the quickest, least intrusive path to them he sees a shock of blonde hair that makes him take pause and huff out a laugh. Well, he was probably going for blonde but somehow ended up with an eye searing orange that Wonwoo would never in his life consent to going out in public with.

"Jeon Wonwoo! Get back over here so I can get some pictures before you mess up your hair even more!" Wonwoo's mom calls over the noise of the crowd, high-pitched and still a little teary.

His face burns as several people near him turn and grin in his direction. He hunches his shoulders up around his ears and abandons the careful route he had planned, mumbling apologies to the strangers he brushes past so his parents won't embarrass him in public any more than they already have.

Pictures are taken, his hair is fussed over so that more pictures can be taken and names continue getting called, one by one, until it's past noon and Wonwoo's nerves finally subside enough that he realizes he's starving.

The first time his stomach grumbles loud enough for his mom to hear she turns to him and pokes at his belly sharply.

"Ow!"

"Don't ‘ow’ me, I told you to have breakfast this morning and you still forgot, didn't you?"

Wonwoo hangs his head, mumbles out a quiet, "Sorry, eomma. I was just too nervous to eat."

Her expression softens and she pokes at his chest this time, a little gentler.

"Well that just won't do." She turns to his dad and gestures at the little pile of things they've accumulated over the past hours -- crumpled up water bottles, a few business cards from enterprising agents looking to sign new talent, the nice suit jackets his mom insisted Wonwoo and his dad wear that were entirely too thick for the heat of summer and struggling aircon. "Honey, grab your things. We're getting pork belly."

He grins, relieved. The burden of expectation is still there, but he thinks he can manage it more easily now. He's made it this far. Now, he can begin to pay his parents back for their faith.

His mom bustles them all out of the auditorium in short order, clapping absently as the announcements continue and they carefully make their way to the exit. They get five minutes down the road before his mom takes an abrupt left and marches them straight into a hole-in-the-wall KBBQ restaurant. The smell of grilled meat hits Wonwoo with all the force of a pissed off defenseman and makes Wonwoo's belly wail for attention.

This is what he'll remember most about this day, Wonwoo thinks. Not the pictures or the nerves or the terrible interview he's already repressed, but this. Sitting around a table with his parents. His dad methodically grilling pork belly, his mom asking about what kind of team the Tigers are, where he's thinking about living. He shovels the food into his mouth as politely as he can manage so his mom doesn't berate his bad table manners and lets it all wash over him.

The heat of the grill and the summer air combine to make him a red-faced, overheated mess. He almost sweats through his new jersey.

He keeps it on.

And he forgets about the boy with the ugly orange hair.

* * *

Wonwoo finds out that Soonyoung has been traded from Jun, because he's set up news alerts for their team and also because Wonwoo is pretty sure he's never put his phone down for more than fifteen seconds unless he's on the ice. The kkt message is just a string of eyes emojis and a link to an article published less than five minutes ago. Not for the first time this week, Wonwoo is glad that Jun considers him a friend.

Wonwoo skims the article leaning against the counter in his small kitchen, trying to tamp down on his smile even though there's no one around to see. It feels like tempting fate, that everything Wonwoo has wanted - a solid team, a good contract, _Soonyoung_ \- has suddenly been given to him. There must be a catch. There always is.

Regardless, he thumbs open his message thread with Soonyoung and tries to think of something to say that doesn't completely give him away.

_You've worked so hard._

_Can't believe I had to find out from the news, I thought we were friends!_

_I can't wait to play with you._

_You deserve this more than anyone else._

He types and deletes them all and finally settles on _welcome to the team soonyoung ~aing_ 🐯

Then he sits down at the kitchen table his mother insisted he buy when he got this place and tries not to vibrate out of his skin.

Soonyoung is on his team now.

Soonyoung, who has been slogging his way through farm teams for the past five years, racking up goal after goal, hat trick after hat trick, has finally made it to the big leagues. Wonwoo has always known Soonyoung would make it. It was just a matter of time. But he hadn't dared hope that Soonyoung would make it on _his_ team.

Again, it seems too good to be true. Wonwoo knows exactly how good they are for each other. He remembers vividly the last time they played together, a casual 2-on-2 with some of the other guys at training camp towards the end of last summer. He remembers how easy it was, to know where Soonyoung was on the ice. To anticipate where he'd go, the choppy way he scrambled around to throw the others off and then sling the puck out to a patch of empty space that Wonwoo occupied a moment later.

The blare of the goal horn was obscenely loud in the empty practice rink. It echoed through the chill air like a gunshot, ringing out again and again as they danced around each other and the two guys whose names Wonwoo didn't bother to remember.

He doesn't remember the score either, but he knows they won by a landslide, Soonyoung whooping with victory as the others grumbled something about cheating on their way out. Wonwoo could care less.

The Tigers have been good this year, inching closer to playoff contention than they've been in over a decade, and Soonyoung is exactly what they need.

Exactly what Wonwoo needs.

He startles when his phone buzzes in his hand, heart rocketing up into his throat.

**Junnie  
**so are you just going to stare at your phone all day  
waiting for that fuckboy to text you back

Wonwoo frowns, glances over his shoulder even though he knows Jun isn't there. Not for the first time this week, he regrets telling Jun anything about his life.

**Wonwoo  
**No  
That's not what I was doing

**Junnie  
**you had your phone in your hand  
you wish i was him  
i can tell

**Wonwoo  
**I'm ignoring you

**Junnie  
**😸  
🙀  
😿

**Wonwoo  
**Where do you even find these emojis  
I don't have these  
Did you get a new update just for catboys or something?

**Junnie  
**i guess we're both keeping secrets now  
😽😼  
i'm leaving for practice in thirty if you want a ride btw  
i heard they want fuckboy for us  
need you to go over how he plays

**Wonwoo  
**Sounds good  
I'll be there in 25

Usually Wonwoo takes the subway to practice but he hadn't realized just how late it had gotten. It's probably not a good sign that the news about Soonyoung made him completely blank out on the open practice scheduled for this afternoon, but at least Jun has his back.

Soonyoung won't be there yet, of course, since the last time Wonwoo checked his team was playing a string of away games in Japan. But he'll be joining them by the end of the week, if the news article is to be believed.

Wonwoo wishes Soonyoung would text him back. He checks his phone again, just in case he missed anything, and then feels embarrassment surge through him like a rip current when there's nothing. Soonyoung must be getting loads of messages from people congratulating him, and there are so many details that will need to get worked out quickly since it's a mid-season trade --where he'll live, what position they want him playing, not to mention a million other little details that Wonwoo had foisted off on his financial adviser, lawyer and agent as soon as he could hire them.

There's not anything he can do to make Soonyoung get here faster, and just thinking about how badly he wants him here is enough to make him shove his phone in the pocket of his jacket as he shuffles around the apartment, making sure he has everything he needs for practice.

\--

Jun doesn't push it during the drive in. He lets Wonwoo wax poetic about Soonyoung's game play, the way he's small enough to be light on his feet but powerful enough that he can rocket himself around the ice if he needs to, the way he's able to take in the lay of the land with barely a glance and set up a play on the spot. When they've talked about it before, Soonyoung has struggled to explain it. Formations, quicksilver and spontaneous, will materialize out of thin air and Soonyoung will do everything he can to follow through, to manipulate the puck around and through the bodies standing between him and the back of the net.

It hasn't always helped him, is the thing. Half the time he'll see something in the middle of a play and break out on his own, adapting as he sees fit, but Wonwoo knows his coaches haven't always viewed it that way. In fact, most of them seem to think Soonyoung is too flighty, too ready to ignore what they have to say and strike out on his own to be worth the trouble. If he had better teammates, maybe it wouldn't be such a big deal. But Soonyoung can't do it all on his own. He can see what needs to be done, but he needs teammates who trust him, who are good enough to keep up with him, and those are few and far between in the farm leagues Soonyoung has been tearing up for the past few years.

Wonwoo knows, with a surety that is satisfying and terrifying in equal measure, that Soonyoung will get them into the playoffs this year. He tells Jun as much, as they're pulling into the covered parking of the practice facility, but Jun just laughs at him.

There are other things Wonwoo thinks about saying but manages to bite the words back being on the ice with Soonyoung is like getting into a tank with a shark, except the shark is on your side and is holding a hockey stick as though it's both a weapon and a lover. The sharp crack of puck on tape, generated by a pass from Soonyoung so nasty it makes Wonwoo want to whoop with exhilaration, is the closest thing to religion Wonwoo has ever experienced. The first time Soonyoung bowled into him after the wail of the goal siren, dripping sweat and screaming with joy at scoring even though it was just a practice game, Wonwoo felt a hook in his belly pull taut.

Practice itself is...good. It's the nature of a trade that they lost someone, a defenseman who Wonwoo barely spoke to, as well as a second round pick for next year, but all anyone can talk about is missing Yukhei and wondering what the new guy will be like, if he'll be worth it.

"They always treat us like we're disposable Hansol, it's like they don't even care that we're _literally_ putting our bodies in the line of fire for them," Seungkwan laments loudly a few lockers down from Wonwoo's.

He snorts at Seungkwan's dramatics and gnaws at a callous on his palm while he finishes checking over his own gear. His gloves are starting to fray, stray threads worming their way out of the tight stitching. They're not loose enough to be noticeable just yet, but he makes a mental note to request a new pair before it gets too bad, and just manages to duck out of the way of the hat Seungkwan dramatically lobs at him. It goes right over his head, neatly hanging itself on one of the hooks installed in his locker.

"Thanks for the hat," Wonwoo deadpans as the room around them erupts into noise. Seokmin and Mingyu are clapping obnoxiously in the corner while Hansol tells Seungkwan that he'd be great at Frisbee golf if he ever wanted to play some time, and Seungcheol is yelling at everyone to quiet down or else they'll be doing suicides for their cool down. It's weirdly comforting, the constant noise of his teammates. So many different people, with different personalities and backgrounds all working together toward a shared goal.

It used to scare him, having to connect with people who he sometimes only played one game with. What do you do with a connection that barely existed, that tied you together for the length of one regulation game and then ripped you apart when someone else decided they wanted you more? Or that they didn't want you after all? Wonwoo never knew how to foster those relationships, and didn't care to even bother, until Soonyoung.

But Soonyoung is a different story entirely.

"Nope, absolutely not, you'll have to earn my hat if you want it so badly hyung," Seungkwan says as he hobbles over on his half-laced skates and snatches it back.

"Hat trick?" Jun calls out from Wonwoo's other side. Wonwoo would be offended that he doesn't even bother looking up from his phone while he throws Wonwoo under the bus, but it's Jun, so. It's mostly just funny.

"Three goals next game and you can have it," Seungkwan agrees, and everyone around them _oooohs_ like they're back in primary school. God, Soonyoung is going to fit right in.

"Whatever you say Seungkwan."

"And if you don't get a hat trick then...I want pork belly. For me and Hansol. And the rest of the defenders!"

"Nice," Hansol says.

"What about us?" Seokmin complains.

"I'll buy you pork belly if you hurry up and get your ass on the ice," Seungcheol cuts in as he lumbers past, decked out in his goalie pads. Chan follows behind him dutifully, weighed down by his own bulky pads and pointedly turning his nose up at Seungkwan, who still hasn't finished tying his skates.

"Thank you hyungnim!" Seokmin yells as he scrambles out after them, and then it's just Wonwoo and Seungkwan remaining. Jun and Hansol must have already left without him noticing. They're both quiet enough that Jihoon has threatened to tie cat bells on their skates so they stop accidentally sneaking up on people. From the way Jihoon has been eying their lockers lately, Wonwoo gets the feeling that it's just a matter of time.

"What do you say hyung? Want to shake on it?"

"Sure," Wonwoo shrugs, throwing his helmet on and tightening his laces one more time. He takes Seungkwan's hand and yelps when Seungkwan suddenly yanks him in close without letting go.

"Also I want to know about the new guy, I heard that you know him already and I want details."

"Nope."

"Yes."

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. "No. You'll meet him when everyone else does."

"But I need to have the upper hand so he'll respect me right away," Seungkwan whines.

"I'm not going to help you haze my friend."

Seungkwan's eyes light up, like he just spotted the perfect opening and is about to pull back for a slapshot that will either give the Tigers a win in overtime or break the leg of whoever is foolish enough to try and block it.

"So you're friends then...that's good to know," Seungkwan muses aloud. Wonwoo thinks helplessly that if he wasn't such a good hockey player Boo Seungkwan would make for a terrifyingly effective lawyer. "But I thought you said you don't really have friends outside the team?"

Wonwoo knows he's not saying it to be mean, but it stings a little all the same. He's not wrong, either, which just makes it worse. Wonwoo has definitely said that before. And it's true for the most part, because even though Soonyoung is his friend he feels like so much more than that. He _is_ more than that, but that's not something Wonwoo can talk to Seungkwan about.

He barely lets himself think about it as is.

Seungkwan must notice Wonwoo's grimace because he takes his hands back and flutters them nervously. "Sorry hyung, I'm sorry, I didn't mean --"

"It's fine Seungkwan, really. I'm not mad." He chuckles, short and low, and ruffles Seungkwan's hair so he'll stop worrying. "I was just thinking you'd make a great lawyer if you ever wanna pursue a second career."

"Really?" The worry creasing Seungkwan's round face relaxes and he smiles, small but clearly pleased. "My halmeoni always said that too, but I think she was teasing me because I loved arguing with her so much."

"Well, I think she might have been onto something. I can see the headlines now: "Boo Seungkwan, Pride of Jeju Island, Hangs up Skates to Defend His Peers in New Domain: The Law."

"Oh my god, hyung," Seungkwan groans, laughing into his hands while Wonwoo stumbles through the bit. He used to be too nervous to joke around with teammates like this, shy and unsure and scared of making a fool of himself in front of people who he wanted so desperately to respect him.

Seungkwan was one of the ones who slowly but surely helped coax Wonwoo out of his shell, who showed him that respect is all well and good but it's not everything. Respect alone can't send the tension from thirty frustrated guys screeching to a halt after a hard loss, but Boo Seungkwan can. Most of the time, one well-crafted chirp is all he needs to cut through everyone's bullshit.

It's a skill that Wonwoo was unreasonably jealous of when Seungkwan first joined the team, that he was so new to the big leagues and already fit right in, talented _and_ good with people. That jealousy was petty and juvenile, an ugly part of Wonwoo that he's not proud of. It was Jun who rolled his eyes and told Wonwoo how much of an asshole he was being every time he complained about Seungkwan's constant chatter, his stupid jokes.

Now, Wonwoo feels nothing but an oceanic swell of pride when he makes Seungkwan crack and laugh at one of his own stupid jokes.

"Maybe they'll even give you your own show. Junnie told you about his dream where you and Seokmin were both idol-singers-turned-talk-show-hosts, right?"

Seungkwan hiccups another laugh and squeaks out a pained, "Noooo," and Wonwoo decides that he's done enough.

When Seungkwan finally lifts his face out of his hands he's flushed pink and sticking his tongue out at Wonwoo. He blows a raspberry and then straightens up all at once as he glances down at his watch, eyes widening at the time.

"God, okay, I need to hear every detail. Obviously not right now. But definitely soon." His smile dims a little and he dips his head in apology once more. "And I'm sorry again. Also, I think Seungcheol-hyung is actually going to kill us if we don't get out there soon."

"Yeah, he is. I'll try and hold him off while you get your skates on."

Seungkwan nods and smiles, rapidly doing up his laces as Wonwoo hobbles over to the tunnel that will take him out to the practice rink and onto the ice. It's nothing new, nothing he hasn't done a thousand times before, but he loves the simplicity of taking that first step, of having solid ground fall away behind him as he trusts in the cut of the blades on his feet, the expanse of ice that stretches out in front of him, the only place he's ever really felt like he belonged.

"Oh, and hyung?"

Wonwoo looks back right before he turns the corner. He can feel the bite of the ice calling to him.

"Hmm?"

"I'm excited to play with your friend."

Wonwoo grins, heart slamming up against the boards of his ribs as he imagines playing with Soonyoung again. But this time, for the first time, they'll be playing on the same team. They'll be playing for real, to make it into the playoffs and to fucking _win_. Earlier in the season, Wonwoo thought, with this team, they could probably do it. With Soonyoung, he knows they can.

"Me too."

* * *

Wonwoo meets Soonyoung at a pre-season camp, something Wonwoo was invited to after the draft by the king of hockey workouts, Wonho.

He's planning on turning the offer down and sticking with his usual trainer, but then he gets a call from the manager of his new team (and it is both terrifying and humbling that he has a _team_ now), and it's hard to say no when the person who holds his contract in their hands tells him he should do it. So he goes.

It's surreal, walking into a gym and watching as Lee Taemin, the best winger in the league, strides past him with a small wave and a smile. Wonwoo waves back dumbly, trying not to look too much like he has no idea what the fuck he's doing.

"Excuse me, could you --" someone says behind him, because Wonwoo stopped in his tracks right inside the door and is blocking it completely.

"Ah, I'm sorry," Wonwoo mumbles, jumping forward and turning around to bow in apology. The first thing he sees is blonde hair. Bottle blonde, clearly, with the way the dark brown roots are already inching out of his scalp. The guy is grinning, eyes scrunched closed and teeth a little crooked as he waves Wonwoo off and dips slightly in return.

"It's cool -- that was Taemin sunbaenim right?" the guy asks, still grinning, gaze darting around the room as if cataloging everyone in attendance. He looks young, maybe Wonwoo's age or a little younger, and Wonwoo thinks he would remember someone like this from the draft, but he doesn't ring any bells.

"Uh, yeah, think so," Wonwoo manages. He feels so completely out of place suddenly, an impostor surrounded by some of the best hockey players to ever set foot on the ice, and then there's Wonwoo. He knows he's good -- he wouldn't have gotten drafted otherwise, he's not stupid -- but that doesn't mean he belongs here, among these people.

"Oh my god, I'm gonna make a fool out of myself in front of Taemin sunbaenim for sure. Fuck." Wonwoo blinks, coughs a laugh at his own thoughts being said aloud by this stranger. "I'm Kwon Soonyoung. Wanna stick together? You seem pretty fun."

Wonwoo blinks again, and again, because no one has ever, ever told him that he seems "fun." Soonyoung is looking up at him slightly, a few inches shorter than Wonwoo, but with that same big smile from before squishing his features into something welcoming, a little mischievous. Before he can second-guess himself he nods, holds out a hand to shake. "Jeon Wonwoo. I'm pretty chill actually but that sounds good. You seem...nice."

Soonyoung laughs, but it's more like a cackle really, and he takes Wonwoo's hand -- smaller than his, but with the familiar callouses and roughness that comes with hard work and wearing sweaty gloves for hours every day -- and shakes it vigorously. "I'm only nice if you're on my team," he says through another laugh, and Wonwoo decides he likes him with an immediacy that should have scared him.

It's always easier to see the warning signs in hindsight.

\--

Wonwoo spends the next week in a daze, letting himself be pulled along by Wonho, a man so kind and gentle Wonwoo barely hates him for the grueling workouts that leave him so exhausted and sore at the end of each day he can barely make it under the sheets of his hotel room bed before he passes out, and Soonyoung, who for some reason has decided that Wonwoo is worth spending time with.

He's half convinced that Soonyoung is keeping him around as some kind of joke, but he can't quite figure out what it could be.

On the fourth day of insane, impossible, utterly unreasonable workouts, Wonwoo spots Choi Seungcheol milling around the free weights. He's already looked up the current roster for the Tigers, has already received several 'welcome to the team!!' messages on kkt from people who he's never met before, and Seungcheol is one of them. Wonwoo didn't know how to respond to those messages so he never did, and he feels a hot flush of embarrassment creep up his neck and close around his throat like a chokehold. He's not even officially on the team yet and he's already fucking it all up.

"You alright? No offense but it looks like you're about to piss your pants," Soonyoung whispers.

Wonwoo, of course, accidentally makes eye contact with Seungcheol. The spark of recognition makes him wish he was small enough to hide behind Soonyoung.

"Okay well now it looks like you're actively pissing your pants."

"Shut up," Wonwoo hisses.

"I'm not good at that."

"Please learn."

"Jeon Wonwoo-ssi?" Seungcheol calls from across the room as he makes his way over. Wonwoo wants to turn and run but Soonyoung nudges him forward with a hand at the small of his back. It burns, even through the thin layer of his t-shirt, and Wonwoo stumbles forward before he can think about it too much.

"Ah, yeah, hi. Hello."

Seungcheol responds by grinning, goofy and gummy and excited, and lurching into Wonwoo's space to envelop him in a warm, only slightly awkward bro hug. Wonwoo freezes up and barely remembers to return the firm thumps on his back before Seungcheol is pulling away. He looks genuinely happy to see Wonwoo, which Wonwoo hadn’t expected. It's nice.

"It's so good to meet you finally! I'm Choi Seungcheol, alternate captain for the Tigers," he says, tripping over the title a little. Wonwoo remembers reading an article his new agent sent him, about how Seungcheol will probably be the first goalie captain in the league at the rate he's going. One year in the show and he's had a whopping ten shutouts, including a run of three games in a row where he didn't let a single puck cross his goal line despite the utter disaster that was the Tigers defensive line last season.

"Nice to meet you too," Wonwoo says blandly, silently cringing at himself. He's so fucking bad at small talk.

"And I'm Kwon Soonyoung," Soonyoung pipes up from beside Wonwoo. Seungcheol turns to him as well. "Drafted by the Killer Whales," he continues proudly, chest puffing up a bit.

"The Killer Whales are a good team," Seungcheol says seriously. Then he cracks a smile, continues with, "They're no Tigers, of course, but I know some great guys over there."

Soonyoung nods, and Wonwoo nods, and Seungcheol continues grinning at them until a few moments pass in awkward silence.

"Um," Wonwoo starts. He feels his palms beginning to sweat.

"Well, I just wanted to introduce myself," Seungcheol says, saving Wonwoo from making a fool of himself in front of his new alternate captain, "and let you know if you're not doing anything tomorrow night I think Wonho usually throws a party the first Friday of training since Saturday is our mercy day--"

_Mercy day?_ Soonyoung mouths in disbelief. Wonwoo has to stifle a laugh.

"-- if you guys want to come! What hotel are you staying at? Maybe we could split a cab instead of taking the subway?"

Wonwoo opens and closes his mouth a few times but his mind is completely blank. He’s never been to a party.

"Ah, well, I think we might have had plans for Friday already but let me double check because that sounds fun as hell and I definitely don't want to miss it," Soonyoung says before the silence can stretch too long. "Is it bring your own? I'm not technically legal but I could probably figure something out by tomorrow."

Seungcheol looks surprised for a second and then he giggles. It's not anything like Wonwoo expects. What Wonwoo knows about Choi Seungcheol is that he is one of very few goalies good enough to be drafted in the first round, that he is built like a cinder block wall and almost as effective as one in the net, and that he has a reputation for knocking you over if you try to loiter in front of the crease. His shoulders curl in on himself a bit as he giggles, high and sweet, and Wonwoo finds himself responding in kind, a low chuckle bubbling out of him as Soonyoung grins at them both.

"Don't worry about it -- you guys like soju? Vodka? I'll grab some tonight if you like."

"I prefer a nice red myself but I guess I'll settle for soju," Soonyoung opines, stroking his chin thoughtfully. Wonwoo wouldn't be surprised if he pulled out a fake pipe and --

Soonyoung mimes pulling out a long pipe and taking a few imaginary puffs.

Wonwoo slaps at him as another laugh punches out of him against his will. He can't stop himself from glancing over at Seungcheol to see what he thinks of Soonyoung. It feels important.

“Alright Sherlock Holmes, whatever you say,” Seungcheol jokes. He’s about to say something else but the shriek of a whistle beats him to it.

The people milling around straighten up quickly as Wonho drops the whistle and claps his hands together excitedly. “It’s Thursday, so you know what that means!” Wonwoo doesn’t know what it means, actually, but he does know that it can’t be good if Wonho looks this excited about it. “Time for leg day! Everyone partner up and grab a mat, we’ll start with stretching and ease into the fun stuff.”

Wonwoo sighs. He hates being right.

\--

Wonwoo doesn’t know what to do at parties.

Usually that's not a problem, because usually he isn't invited to them in the first place so he can go to bed early and wake up early so he can fit in some extra time on the ice. If he's really feeling like making things hard for himself, he can stay up late scrolling through his teammates' instagram stories and scoffing at their drunken antics. This is probably why he never gets invited to these things anyway, but he doesn't really mind. He'd rather be caught dead than have a video of him wasted and puking into someone's kitchen sink just out there on the internet.

But Soonyoung is hard to say no to.

"This is so gross," Soonyoung slurs into his ear, and Wonwoo nods his head in agreement because whatever they put in this punch makes it impossible to taste anything other than the cloying flavor of--mango? Maybe peach? Fuck, whatever it is, it's sweet enough that it leaves a film on his tongue.

"Yeah," he rasps, because Soonyoung is looking up at him expectantly. Wonwoo has only known him for a week but he already feels so familiar. He's never wanted to be someone's friend so desperately. "Tastes like ass."

Soonyoung giggles and lists into Wonwoo's shoulder as he takes another long swallow. They're standing at Wonho's kitchen island, all the lights dimmed as the music coming from the living room tapers off and then another song comes on. The bass is loud and thumping, so much so that Wonwoo can feel it through the floor. He wonders if Wonho's downstairs neighbors hate him.

"Do you think Wonho's neighbors hate him?" he asks Soonyoung, grimacing as he takes another swig. It really is disgusting.

"Nah, I think they're here."

"Oh."

"Some people are actually friends with their neighbors Wonwoo," Soonyoung snickers, then cackles loudly at Wonwoo's affronted expression.

"I could be friends with my neighbors, you don't know."

"But you aren't."

Wonwoo tips back the rest of his drink.

"Well, no. But I could be if I wanted to!"

"Of course," Soonyoung nods sagely, "you're very friendly."

Wonwoo squints at Soonyoung suspiciously. "You're making fun of me."

"WHAT?! Noooooo."

Wonwoo brings his empty cup up to hide his grin. Fuck, Soonyoung is fun. Even a few drinks in and starting to slur a bit, Soonyoung is staying by Wonwoo's side, making small talk that doesn't even feel like small talk and slowly but steadily downing the punch that Wonho proudly proclaimed someone named Hyunwoo had made.

He watches as Soonyoung's eyes track a woman, tall and drowning in an oversized hoodie, as she passes in front of the entrance to the living room.

"Is that Nana Fujimoto?" Soonyoung asks, eyes wide.

"Who?"

Soonyoung glances at him, unimpressed. "Just the most amazing goalie the Japan women's national team has ever seen."

"Oh. Cool," Wonwoo says, because it is.

If he was a better friend he'd probably be trying to wingman for Soonyoung right now, but he's pretty drunk, and extremely petty, and he'd much rather be talking to Soonyoung than trying to get him laid. He’d be terrible at it anyway. He’s awkward just talking to guys on his team, talking to girls? Yeah right.

So he sticks with Soonyoung all night. He follows him to the DJ station (a folding table shoved in one corner where a woman wearing headphones is hunched over a laptop) so Soonyoung can request, “Anything by SHINee, please,” every twenty minutes. Wonwoo isn’t super familiar with SHINee but, judging by Soonyoung’s pout, she never does play anything. Seungcheol mentioned he’s known Wonho for a while on the cab ride in, but he seems to know practically everyone at the party, flitting between groups of people and smiling, drunk and bubbly, the whole time. He comes over to where Wonwoo and Soonyoung are posted up in the kitchen a few times, points out who they might want to talk to, who they should try to avoid.

It’s nice. Wonwoo feels a little less out of place now that he can recognize some of the faces swimming around him. Some of them even introduce themselves while they’re getting their own drinks, quick and polite. Wonwoo tenses up every time it happens but he thinks he manages not to completely botch it. At least he hopes so.

Mostly, though, he and Soonyoung just talk.

The music is loud but Soonyoung has no qualms about pushing up on his toes and cupping his hand around Wonwoo’s ear so he can hear. Wonwoo shivers every time he does it, hot breath ghosting over his neck. Soonyoung is good at talking, and Wonwoo is so relieved that _he_ isn’t expected to keep the conversation alive, because he’s never sure what to say.

Wonwoo isn’t sure what other people talk about at parties, but Soonyoung just talks about hockey.

\--

It’s late enough that it’s early when they finally stumble out of Wonho’s apartment and into the first cab they come across.

Wonwoo is hard balled into taking the middle seat, even though, he points out several times, he's taller than both of them. But, "You have the skinniest ass, it's basic math Wonwoo," makes Seungcheol laugh so hard he almost falls over, so he takes Soonyoung's side.

He sighs, slides into the middle and crosses his arms at his waist. He supposes he'd rather roast alive than have to wait who knows how long for another cab.

The sun set hours ago but the heat lingers. It settles around Wonwoo's collarbones, his armpits, the outside of his thighs where they're pressed against Seungcheol and Soonyoung. When he glances over at Soonyoung and sees him -- eyes closed, head thrown back exposing the sheen of sweat on his neck, Adam's apple bobbing as he licks his lips and swallows -- the heat pulses through his groin too.

He tries to close his legs on instinct but there's not enough space to actually do it so he just ends up knocking his knees into Seungcheol and Soonyoung. They both startle awake from their impromptu naps, Soonyoung snorting loudly and shaking his head while Seungcheol lets out a mournful little whine and presses his face harder against the relatively cool glass of the window.

Soonyoung's eyes drift open and catch Wonwoo's before he can think to look away. It just makes him burn hotter.

What a bad time to realize he's attracted to Soonyoung. Fuck.

He's just thankful he chose to wear the dark wash jeans tonight instead of the sweatpants he had seriously considered going in.

He doesn’t look at Soonyoung for the remaining drive.

He can’t avoid looking at him when they pull up to their hotel though, because Soonyoung is heavy and limp with sleep, and it takes both Wonwoo and Seungcheol to drag him out of the backseat.

“I’ll help you get him to his room, yeah?”

Seungcheol is officially Wonwoo’s favorite teammate.

“Yes, thank you hyung. He’s heavier than he looks.”

By the time they’ve got him slumped in the corner of the elevator on the way up to their floor, Soonyoung is starting to blink his eyes open. He straightens up, stretches, almost tips over but manages to catch himself against the handrail on one wall.

They don’t really need the help anymore but Seungcheol still walks them to the door of Soonyoung’s hotel room. He gives them both a wave as he runs back before the elevator can leave. Leg day was brutal and Wonwoo shudders at the thought of having to walk up stairs any time soon.

Soonyoung, now actually awake and moving under his own power again, pulls out his keycard and finally gets the door open after a few minutes of drunken struggling. Wonwoo would have helped, but it’s kind of funny.

"Hey," Soonyoung says, after they stumble in through the door of Soonyoung’s hotel room. "Hey, why don't I --"

He motions with his hand, loosely curling one first. Wonwoo feels his mouth dry up, the film on his tongue almost tacky now.

"What?"

"Let me just," Soonyoung starts, very clearly and vigorously now making the jack off motion while Wonwoo stares at him with a brain full of cotton and the muffled sound of alarm bells ringing. Soonyoung takes another step into the room, wobbles precariously, and drops abruptly to his knees at the foot of the bed. His hands reach for Wonwoo's hips and Wonwoo blinks, too startled to do anything but watch. He feels crazy, like he's watching this all happen from outside his body, Soonyoung tinted pink and eager and looking up at Wonwoo like he wants him.

Soonyoung's hands find their way under Wonwoo's t-shirt, warm and rough with callouses, and Wonwoo -- god, Wonwoo wants it so badly. How could he not? Soonyoung is so tactile, constantly slapping at Wonwoo's shoulders, tapping him with his stick to get his attention, skating into his space and swallowing up all the air between them until Wonwoo feels like gasping for breath. He's barely left Wonwoo's side since they met and maybe it's the proximity, maybe it's the expanse of Soonyoung's bare back that Wonwoo couldn't look away from in the locker room earlier, maybe it's a little bit of both, but Wonwoo can't get enough of it. He can recognize now why he wants Soonyoung closer. He aches for it.

But Soonyoung is drunk, and they barely know each other really, and Wonwoo would rather have a friend than a fuck. Not like he's had much opportunity for either, but he doesn't want to blow it now that he has the possibility kneeling right in front of him.

"Ah, no, that's okay Soonyoung, you don't need to..."

He gently prys Soonyoung's hands away from the button of his pants and holds them in both of his. He notices that his trembling fingers wrap most of the way around Soonyoung's sweaty palm and has to swallow hard. His hands would look so small wrapped around Wonwoo's --

Fuck.

Wonwoo forces his gaze away from their tangled hands and looks at Soonyoung's face instead. His mouth is parted, head tilted to the side a bit in confusion, brows furrowed. Wonwoo tries to smile reassuringly but he's always been terrible at that. Being reassuring. Smiling.

And then Wonwoo watches as his expression crumbles quickly from confused to...something else. Soonyoung staggers back up to his feet, taking a few steps away from Wonwoo until his knees hit the edge of the bed and he flops down to sit.

"Ha, haha ha, good job, you passed the test," Soonyoung says. He's smiling as he says it, grinning wide like always as he leans his weight back on his palms. Wonwoo's gut feels so tight he can barely breathe. "I heard that's how they haze you in the big leagues so just, y'know, figured I'd help you out."

The lie is so ridiculous Wonwoo almost thinks Soonyoung is kidding. That any second now he'll snort a laugh and slap Wonwoo's shoulder and tell him to lighten up.

Instead, Soonyoung keeps smiling.

Wonwoo had thought, when he dared think about it at all, that the worst case scenario for him going into a professional sport would be one of three things, because he's always liked to have options.

He gets injured. Something so severe he can never play again. Maybe so bad he can never skate.

He gets drafted and starts playing and it becomes obvious that he's just not up to snuff. He's sent back down. Eventually his contract is terminated. He has to tell his parents that the dream they worked so hard to help him achieve is as substantial as smoke. He's not good enough. He never has been.

Someone finds out that Wonwoo is...that he likes guys. They sell it to a newspaper or a gossip site or just spread it around until everyone knows, until you can't hear the name Jeon Wonwoo without whispering about what he probably does with the other guys on his team, and some on the other teams too. His contract is terminated. He can't bring himself to talk to his family, and they probably wouldn't want to talk to him anyway. He's ruined.

Wonwoo is good at coming with all sorts of terrible things that could happen to him, but even he hadn't thought of this.

This isn't even about him but somehow it feels worse.

Wonwoo has known Soonyoung less than a week but it feels wrong to watch him lie to Wonwoo out of -- fear? Mistrust? It eats at his stomach, that Soonyoung thinks Wonwoo might say or do something, anything, to hurt him. Wonwoo doesn't want to lose Soonyoung to this. And selfishly, he thinks it might be easier to bear this weight if he's not alone.

But he can't --

He doesn't want to --

Doesn't he?

"You don't have to lie Soonyoung," Wonwoo says. He looks over Soonyoung's shoulder at the unassuming beige headboard because that seems easier than looking at Soonyoung's pink face. His heart is beating like he just played two periods of overtime and he's skating out to start the third. He wishes, desperately, that they were on the ice right now. He thinks it'd be easier to talk with the familiar chill of the air soothing the rough scratch of his throat. "I'm...you know." He curls his hand into a loose fist and shakes it gently in Soonyoung's direction. "Me too." It feels like too much to say the other words so he doesn't. Keeps those tucked into his cheek for another time.

"I knew it,” Soonyoung slurs, and Wonwoo flinches, face burning. “I thought maybe you were just awkward but,” he shrugs. “You kept looking at my neck. And my ass.”

Wonwoo keeps his gaze turned away because it’s so embarrassing, being caught out like this. And he hadn’t even noticed he’d been doing it, not really. He just wanted to be Soonyoung’s friend.

“Sorry I made it weird,” he continues, and Wonwoo flicks his gaze over just in time to watch Soonyoung's loose-limbed lean melt into a full sprawl as he slowly settles himself onto his back. He tries to prop his head up with one hand but doesn't quite manage it and tips over onto his side. He's still very, very drunk.

"Let me get you some water Soonyoung-ah, " Wonwoo says when Soonyoung doesn't do anything to right himself.

He doesn't mean to brush past Soonyoung’s...offer, really. Well, he does a little, because he doesn't know how to deal with that right now. It’s easier to focus on getting Soonyoung water, making sure he drinks the whole bottle and trying not to let his eyes follow the drops that spill over his lips, gravity dragging them down the length of his neck.

\--

Wonwoo wakes up to warmth, pressed all along the line of his back. He shifts, trying not to disturb Soonyoung too much, and takes stock of himself.

His headache isn't too bad, probably because he made sure he and Soonyoung drank several glasses of water before passing out the night before. He can barely see a foot in front of him because he left his glasses on Soonyoung's side table instead of his own.

He should have just gone back to his own room, but he was worried about Soonyoung. He’s heard horror stories from teammates before about passing out alone and waking up to puke just, fucking everywhere. So he stayed. He should have come up with a plan for what he’d say in the morning, but really it all depends on Soonyoung.

If Soonyoung acts as though he doesn't remember, Wonwoo will let him. He'll play along, do the same. They were so drunk last night, how did they get home? He can't remember anything after taking shots with Seungcheol the second time.

Soonyoung shifts against his back, pulling closer. His hands are resting proprietarily on Wonwoo's hips, calloused fingers twitching slightly in the soft cotton of an old team shirt. Their ankles knock together and then tangle as Soonyoung yawns for what feels like five minutes.

"Okay so...I feel like I should apologize?" Soonyoung mumbles into the hair at the base of Wonwoo's neck. It makes him shiver.

"You don't need to," Wonwoo says even as hope, verdant and unexpected, takes root in his chest. Maybe he won't have to lie after all.

"I shouldn't have just sprung it on you like that, that wasn't cool so I’m sorry about that,” Soonyoung continues stubbornly. “And no hard feelings that you weren't interested or anything. You look like you might be more into big bara guys anyway, I can appreciate that. I just figured, yknow. We could blow off some steam and then stay friends or whatever.”

Oh.

_Oh_.

Wonwoo feels stupid and inexperienced and so glad that Soonyoung can’t see his face right now. If having Soonyoung as a friend and...something more is an option, that’s what he wants.

And he _wants_.

Wonwoo has never liked being impulsive. He likes to plan, likes to think and then overthink until he’s figured out what he’s going to do, what the best method for him to get what he wants is. He doesn’t know how to do that with Soonyoung, and maybe he doesn’t have to. Soonyoung has already offered.

So Wonwoo turns his brain off, twists around, and kisses Soonyoung. No plan, just pulling back for a slapshot and letting it fly.

Soonyoung’s breath is terrible, his lips dry. It doesn't last very long because Wonwoo doesn't know what he's doing but already he wants to try again.

Wonwoo pulls back and squints his eyes open and Soonyoung's cheeks are pink, his lips slightly parted. His eyes are closed, and it strikes Wonwoo with all the force of a bolt of lightning, what he's doing. Soonyoung is clearly more experienced than him. Maybe Soonyoung will teach him.

He thinks he could be a good student, if Soonyoung wanted him to be.

"I haven't...," Wonwoo mumbles, waits until Soonyoung blinks his eyes open to continue, "I haven't really done much. Or anything. You can tell me if I'm bad at it."

“Okay,” Soonyoung rasps, “sure, I can do that. Fuck yeah Wonwoo, let me just,” and he brings Wonwoo back in, pushes his tongue into his mouth immediately, sloppy right from the beginning, and scrabbles at Wonwoo’s sweatpants until they’re pushed down his thighs.

Wonwoo’s boxers are loose and it’s easy for Soonyoung to pull those down as well, still kissing Wonwoo like he’s suddenly as desperate as Wonwoo is. Maybe he is. The thought makes Wonwoo groan and Soonyoung seems to take that as his cue to lean away, run his hands up and down Wonwoo’s sore thighs, calluses catching on the sensitive skin.

Wonwoo looks down as well, and tries not to twitch away at how naked he is, how vulnerable. He barely has time to worry about that though because Soonyoung wraps his hand around Wonwoo's cock and — fuck, he was right. It looks so big. But Wonwoo only has a second to think about how it looks because then he's too busy losing breath over the pleasure coursing through him at Soonyoung's nimble hands.

He's been sweaty since before he woke up but now he feels drenched, wet everywhere, his dick spitting out precome even as he sweats through the shirt he didn’t think to take off.

"We can just start with this," Soonyoung whispers as he slowly fucks his hand over the head of Wonwoo's cock until it gets slick enough to ease the slide. Wonwoo shudders. It's rougher than he usually is with himself, but he thinks he might like it.

And then it’s just Soonyoung everywhere, all over him. Kissing his mouth. His neck. Nipping at his ears, his jaw, as his hand pumps Wonwoo’s cock determinedly. Wonwoo isn’t doing anything except taking it, letting it happen, and it’s so overwhelming he could cry from it.

And then Soonyoung starts using both hands and Wonwoo mentally taps out. He feels so good. It feels so good to be touched like this, better than he realized it could.

"I'm pretty good at handjobs because I practice them all the time," Soonyoung says, and Wonwoo feels absurdly jealous of whoever Soonyoung has been giving handjobs to, but he pushes it down as soon as it surfaces. They’re just friends.

"Do I know them?" Wonwoo gets out around a moan. His body keeps trying to curl in on itself reflexively, away from Soonyoung's hands. It doesn't work, obviously. Soonyoung keeps his strokes slow, firmer than is really comfortable, and Wonwoo can't stop shaking.

Soonyoung laughs. "I was talking about jacking off, dude."

Wonwoo doesn't even have time to mentally berate himself before Soonyoung's other hand scratches at the sensitive skin of his thigh, a star-burst of purple already forming where he blocked a slapshot during on-ice drills. Wonwoo has to stifle a yelp in his own shoulder at the way the spark of pain radiates out from his thigh and then settles, molten, into his gut.

"Aigoo you're big huh?" Soonyoung coos as he pinches lightly at the sensitive head of Wonwoo's cock. He flushes at the praise, tries to squirm away but can't get far before Soonyoung tightens his grip even further. He's twisting his fist around like he's trying to unscrew a stubbornly tight lid or something and it should be too much — it _is_ too much — but, god, Wonwoo likes it, wants even more of it. He feels like he's lighting up all over, like he's developing new nerve endings just for Soonyoung to overload all his senses, touch and sound and — Wonwoo jerks forward, opens his mouth and bites down into the meat of Soonyoung's bicep to muffle another moan — and taste. He's almost relieved he can barely see at this point, Soonyoung just a blur of skin and bottle blonde hair and frantic movement.

Soonyoung's other hand is jacking him off fast and hard now and Wonwoo tenses all over so hard he feels a cramp coming on. He has just enough time to worry about what his face will look like when he nuts so he shoves his face into the crook of Soonyoung's damp armpit — it should be so gross, and it kind of is but even slick with sweat and smelly Wonwoo is fucking into it, incandescent with embarrassment even though there's no way for Soonyoung to know and somehow that just makes it hotter.

He lets himself whine, lets his hips kick up a frantic pace and then still abruptly as he comes messily all over Soonyoung's hands and the hotel sheets. Soonyoung keeps touching him, murmuring words Wonwoo doesn't have the brain cells to interpret into language until he stops shaking and Soonyoung's rough palm gives one last playful rub to the oversensitive head of his dick, almost painful, and then he's not being touched at all anymore. That feels worse.  
  
  
  
"Was my dick game too strong?"  
  
  
  
Wonwoo snorts, forces his limbs into motion. "No." He wobbles up to one elbow.   
  
  
  
Soonyoung doesn't wait for Wonwoo to offer a hand in return, even though he absolutely is about to, as soon as he can feel his extremities again, and starts stripping his cock with the hand still covered in Wonwoo's cum, fast and rough, while Wonwoo looks on.   
  
  
  
"Can I —"   
  
  
  
"You can come on me," Wonwoo interrupts, still gravelly with sleep and want, because Soonyoung seems like the kind of person who'd like that sort of thing, and Wonwoo will take what he can get while he can get it.   
  
  
  
"Oh fuck, _yes_ , that's so hot," Soonyoung mutters, getting up on his knees and shuffling across the bed until he's braced over Wonwoo, the muscle and fat on his thighs tensing and untensing as his hips jerk up to meet his hand like he can't get there fast enough and Wonwoo has spent countless hours thinking about what it would be like to have sex, what it would be like to have sex with a guy, and it was never anything like this, it was never _easy_.   
  
  
  
Maybe it's just Soonyoung that makes it so easy.  
  
  
  
Soonyoung comes with a drawn out groan all over Wonwoo's chest and stomach. Wonwoo watches as his gaze darts around Wonwoo's body, landing on the softness of his belly because he doesn't have the energy to clench and show off his hard-won abs, the crease of his hip where his dick is still soft. His mouth. His hands, curled loosely in the thin sheets. Soonyoung lingers on the places where Wonwoo can feel his cum cooling already with a hunger that makes Wonwoo close his eyes and exhale shakily.   
  
  
  
"So," Soonyoung says, rough, "you okay with doing that again sometime?"  
  
  
  
And what else is Wonwoo supposed to do?  
  
  
  
"Yeah."  
  
  
  
" _Fuck_ yeah," Soonyoung whoops, and hops off the bed. Wonwoo stays exactly where he is for the five minutes it takes Soonyoung to emerge from the ensuite with a damp towel that he lobs at Wonwoo's face, and then he cleans himself off, slips into his own hotel room, and tries to get himself together.   
  
  
  
It's a work in progress.   
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading <3
> 
> chapters 2 & 3 coming to u 2021
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/scissorghost) | [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/scissorghost)


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